


How To Get Along With Girls After You’ve Been Brainwashed By HYDRA

by DomesticatedTendencies



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Accident Prone Clint, At Some Point We’re Doing The Macarena, Avenger Bucky Barnes, Avengers Tower, Because I can, Breaking and Entering, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes and the 21st Century, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Bucky Barnes-centric, Bucky Bear - Freeform, Bucky’s Murder Strut, Catholic School, Catholicism, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Christmas Tree, Christmas with the Avengers, Darcy Lewis Bakes, Deaf Clint Barton, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, Not Canon Compliant, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Pretty Sure Bucky is committing a B&E, Sam Wilson is a Saint, Satire, Steve Rogers & Darcy Lewis Are The Annoying Couple We All Love, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Steve Rogers is an Instigator, Steve’s Ugly Sweater, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Avengers Are Good Bros, This is meant to be fun, Toy Store, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, a little angsty, christmas shenanigans, everyone gets along, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-08 15:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12867012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DomesticatedTendencies/pseuds/DomesticatedTendencies
Summary: “I used to be good at handling, you know, dames. I knew what to do and what to say; how to say it. Take ‘em out dancing; maybe go to a show if that’s what they wanted. Hold the door, give her your arm, compliment her dress. It’s still there you know. It’s just...” Bucky’s lips pressed in to a hard line as he touched a finger to his temple like a gun to his head. “There’s that other garbage too.”Steve frowned. He heard everything Bucky was saying but he had no answers for the guy. This wasn’t the 1940’s anymore and there was no dating manual called How To Get Along With Girls After You’ve Been Brainwashed By HYDRA.





	1. Better Button Up, It’s a Cold One

**Author's Note:**

> So everyone gets along in this. There was no CACW and Bucky is now an avenger. Basically I’m taking the laziest route possible so everyone can be together and be happy damn it. Also, Clint is probably in the ceiling vents.
> 
> If you read the start of my story “Bucky Santa” this is a reworking of that. Don’t let the summary fool you, this is all meant in great fun. Yes there’s an OFC and yes she’s the love interest of one of our great hero’s, but I promise that’s not what this is about... not really anyway. Let the holiday shenanigans begin!

Bucky shot bolt upright with the memory of a scream still tearing at his throat. His breath came in heavy pants and his back was slick with sweat. A pillow was destroyed in his left fist, the metal one. Cheap synthetic feathers floated like dust moats in the air. Damn it. He let out a shuttering breath and threw the mangled thing to the floor. Then after a dour moment he kicked it, insuring it was dead.

He could not/would not remember the dream or what exactly had woken him. It was both a blessing and a curse.

He was alone. The dark apartment, empty. He didn't have to check to know this, but he did anyway. He checked every room, every shadow, every closet (there were only two). He was systematic in his sweep. There was a tiny comfort to be taken in the menial task. As he cleared the small one bedroom apartment his memories, the real ones, returned to him one by one: who he was. Where. Why.

Outside he could hear the rumbling approach of the trash collector. It was just before 4am. The apartment secured and his brain still buzzing, he snatched up his latest victim from the floor and headed for the fire escape.

The rusted metal protested under his weight. Most people would have been more than a little sketched out. Luckily he wasn't most people. At some point it had occurred to him that if his apartment was secured, he really should secure the apartment next door too. You know, just to be sure.

The window was open despite the December frost and even if it wasn't, it wouldn't be hard for him to shim. With his pillow tucked under his arm, he pushed the window up and stole into the apartment without making a sound.

This apartment mirrored his own, yet it was completely different. For one thing, his didn't have as much crap. Sofa, coffee table, lamp. That was all a person needed. Even the bookshelf against the far wall he could justify, but not the dressmakers mannequin, a potted palm, a coat rack, seventeen throw pillows on the couch, and a dresser littered with knick-knacks and random trinkets picked up at various street fairs. The cluttered living room was clear of imminent threat, though the same could not be said for trip hazards.

There was a sewing machine set up where the kitchen table was supposed to be. The smell of warm machine oil and dust familiar to him. Green felt and red gauze were strewn everywhere, the makings of tiny pageant costumes that were both adorable and obnoxious in their festiveness. Without overthinking, he left his pillow among the mess and cut through the kitchenette to the hall.

The bedroom door was open. He moved without a sound, the floorboards silent beneath his bare feet. Despite the dark, he could make out with laser focus the sleeping form in the bed; the covers rising and falling with each steady breath. He let out a sigh of relief.

"Of all the avengers in this city I have to live next door to the one with insomnia and boundary issues," She grumbled in to her pillow.

Bucky frowned. "You left the window open. Again."

"We are on the fifth floor. The only person coming through that window is you," She didn't even bother lifting her head. "I have a door, you know.”

This wasn't a new conversation.

Maura Delaney lay smack in the middle of the bed, exactly where he had left her sometime around midnight.

"Shove over," He ordered.

She complained, loudly; cursing his very existence but obliging him all the same, even pulling the covers back for him as she went. She was parochial school teacher, just as sweet as could be teaching second grade up at Saint Anthony’s and yet at four in the morning she had the vernacular of a well versed sailor.

She slept in one of his wife beaters, her ass bare; the smell of their sex still permeating the sheets. He climbed under the blankets and wrapped his arms around her. Her body was warm and soft, the weight of her a comfort in his arms. The curve of her backside fit like a puzzle piece in to his groin. She snuggled against him. His arm, the living one, pulling her back against his stomach while wild curls that sprang every which way tickled under his nose.

He kissed her bare shoulder. She was whole. Her body intact. She hadn’t been torn limb for limb or killed with a single shot to the head. She wasn't the stuff of his nightmares.

"I don't understand why you couldn't just stay in the first place," She yawned.

His voice was husky and dark like the look in his gunmetal eyes. "You know why."

Of course she did.

He had only ever stayed once, in the very beginning when he had been fresh from deprogramming and had naively believed that his days as the Winter Soldier were behind him. It had been a disaster that ended with a fresh hole in her drywall and Maura cowering for cover in the closet. Bucky knew better now. He understood that the Soldier would always be inside of him, an unwelcome guest just like the voice in his head that still spoke his darkest thoughts in flawless Russian.

With a shiver he hugged her tighter.

"Do you really think I have boundary issues?" He asked after a few minutes.

Half asleep, Maura managed a smile, "Clearly."

Bucky frowned again.

"I leave the window open on purpose," She added gently, "For you."

He kissed the back of her head. "Sometimes I don't know what I'd do without you."

She gave a dry snort, "Break in to Mrs. Castorelli's, I'd imagine."

"You kill me doll, you know that?" He smirked in to her abundant hair.

"Shh," She waved a hand over her shoulder, smacking him carelessly in the face. "Less talk-y, more sleep-y."

Catching her wrist, he kissed the tip of each finger before settling her hand on top of his forearm. It wasn't long before he felt her body relax back in to sleep. Bucky wouldn't sleep. He would lay there awake until her alarm went off at 6am. He didn't mind though. When she woke up he would fake a yawn and greet her with a sleepy sort of smile. She would roll her eyes and call him a dork before inviting him in to the shower with her. He liked it that way. He liked knowing it would be that way.

"Maura?" He whispered, knowing full well she wouldn't answer. Only then would he said it, those words he could never find when she was awake.

~~~~~

Maura was capable of a great many things but she could not save his pillow. Not this time. After a good solid month of abuse it was finally done. She did all she could to try to resuscitate the thing and when she failed she gave it a proper send off down the garbage chute across the hall. Poor thing. It hadn't stood a chance.

"You'll have to go to K-Mart," She told him from the bathroom where she was attempting to fashion her unruly hair in to some semblance of a hairstyle.

Bucky pulled a face. Even if it wasn't two weeks before Christmas, he would not be going to K-Mart. He could just go without a damn pillow. He took a swig of his coffee and continued to watch out the window.

"You know where there's good pillows, don't you?" Giving up on her hair, she came back into the living room, her long blonde curls loose around her shoulders and a quirky half smile on her face. "'My bed."

Again, not a new conversation between them. Her generation was supposed to be all about taking things slow. They were supposed to fear commitment and rebel against traditional family structure. Not his Maura. Six months of sleeping together (or not sleeping, as the case were) and she wanted to know why they were still both wasting money on rent.

She had crossed the room to him. Resting her hands on his broad shoulders, she nudged him with her knee, spreading his legs so she could stand between them. Bucky looked up at her, a humorless expression on his rugged face.

"You don't say?"

She gave a solemn nod, "I do say."

"And what if the next time it's you and not the pillow that I do that to?"

She ran her thumb over his bottom lip, pulling it down so that he wouldn't pout.

"I don't think you're capable of hurting me,” She told him softly.

He brow wrinkled in a frown. “I wish I could say the same."

She watched as the all too familiar darkness fell over his eyes, veiling his mind from her. She wanted to understand him, she truly did. There were just times when he made it so damn hard.

Downstairs he caught sight of a well known blonde head, right on time as always. Steve had on a wool coat and an obnoxious multi colored knit scarf. Even from five stories up Bucky could spot the makings of a matching hat peaking out of his coat pocket. Sure as shit Darcy Lewis was to blame and Bucky actually smiled.

"Gotta go," He announced, lifting the window open. He was still shirtless and barefoot in a pair of mesh gym shorts. The fact that it was hardly 12 above out did not seem to phase him at all.

Maura peered curiously out the window, looking down to the alley below. "Are you ever going to introduce us?"

"Sure, one day," Bucky answered quickly as he stepped a leg out to the fire escape.

She rolled her eyes. "Way to make a girl feel special there."

Damn it. He should have seen that one coming. Now she was mad, or at the very least annoyed. He sat straddling the window seal, not exactly comfortable as she folded her arms across her chest.

"Listen to me doll, you are special. That's exactly why I like to keep you separate from all -," He made a circular waving motion in the the crisp air outside the window, "This. The second I go introducing you to people everything changes and maybe I’m just not ready to share you yet."

Maura's mouth turned up in the corners. It wasn't exactly a smile but she wasn't outwardly frowning anymore either.

He stood up again, still half out the window, and gave her a fast kiss. Then he clucked her under the chin.

"I'll see you tonight, yeah?"

Maura sighed, her features softening. “My window is always open.”

His lips parted like he wanted to say something but before he could he pursed them closed again. It occurred to him somewhere in the far recesses of his screwed up brain that there were no guarantees in life, especially his, and if he never saw her again then there would be things left unsaid. Maybe it was for the best. It was fine for him to be burdened by his confused feelings but that didn’t mean she had to be too.

“Have a good one,” He mumbled.

“You too, James.”

James, not Bucky. Like his given name was some kind of special endearment. He supposed maybe it was; at least the way she said it.

He gave her a tight lipped smile and like that he was out on the fire escape. By the time he climbed through his own window Steve was already pounding on the door. He unbolted the deadbolt with a flourish of the wrist, letting his friend in with little ceremony.

"You're not dressed yet? It's seven,” Steve chastised.

Punk.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Give me two seconds. Nice scarf."

"Darcy made it for me," Steve plucked at the technicolored monstrosity. "I like it."

"Yeah?" Bucky was in the bedroom, pulling his pants up over his hips. "Then how come the matching hat is shoved in your pocket?"

Steve frowned, a very uncongenial look for the good captain. "I didn't feel like wearing a hat today."

"Right," Bucky had put on a heather gray henley to go with his black tac pants and sat down heavily on the beat up arm of his thrift store couch to lace his boots. "And does your girlfriend know you didn't feel like wearing a hat today?"

The captain bolstered. "She doesn't dress me!"

Bucky begged to differ. Just a few days prior the always proper captain had been seen wearing a t-shirt with a bug eyed cartoon version of himself as well as five other Avengers on it. If that didn't scream the influence of Darcy Lewis, nothing did.

"You know what, I like it. I like the fact that Darcy took the time to make it for me and I like that it makes her happy when I wear it," Steve glowered. "Maybe if you had a girlfriend you would understand. Now are you done? We're going to be late."

"We're not going to be late," The man formerly known as Winter Soldier argued as he grabbed his duffle bag and keys from the coffee table. "Every morning you say we're going to be late. We're never late."

"If you would just move in to the Tower I wouldn't have to worry about us being late to begin with," Rogers said pointedly.

"I don't make you come get me in the mornings. I'm not five; I know my way to school."

When Bucky stopped to lock his door Maura was in the hall doing the same. She had her coat opened over a red knit dress and cream colored tights. Her favorite scarf, the blue cashmere one that her grand dad had given her for Christmas the year she’d graduated college, was loose around her neck. Upon seeing her like that he wanted nothing more than to button her coat and wrap the soft material around her vulnerable throat. It was cold out after all and she had just gotten over a case sniffles the week before.

"Good morning, ma'am," Steve gave her a polite nod as she breezed past them on her way to the stairs.

She gave the men no more than a sideways glance. “Gentlemen.”

They ended up following her down the stairs, Bucky damning the five story walk up the entire way. They could have passed her on the landing but that would have been rude so instead they followed at an excruciatingly close distance.

He could smell her, buttercream and warm spiced vanilla. It reminded him of Christmas cookies.

"So anyway, the Tower."

"I'm not moving in to the Tower," Bucky gave a detached reply. "I've told you before, I like my freedom."

"Just think about it."

“Uh-huh.” As in never going to happen.

Third floor and he could have sworn Maura was purposely going slow just to mess with him. Drawing out his torture.

“What are you doing with all that freedom anyway, Buck?”

“Huh?” Puzzled, Bucky looked back at his oldest friend.

“You say you won’t live in the Tower because you like your freedom so I was just wondering what you’ve been doing in your down time,” Steve said with a cavalier smile. “Seen any good movies lately?”

He and Maura had just watched Toy Story 3 over the weekend. Her pick, though to be honest he hadn’t really minded it that much.

“Nope.”

“Read any good books?”

“I just finished with the manual for the Kalashnikov 47. It was a real doozy,” He answered drolly.

Steve might have been unflappable by so was he. After spending the better half of a century as the asset he was confident that he could handle a little light interrogation via Steve Rogers.

“You know, there’s this gal down in Human Resources that Darce and I think would be perfect for you. We could double.”

_Damn it, Steve._

Bucky’s heart rate accelerated and his core body temperature rose at least ten degrees. He saw Maura look just over her shoulder, her expression one of piqued interest and suddenly he was no longer game for this line of questioning.

“No,” He answered sharper than was probably necessary. “No setting me up with the girl from Human Resources. No stupid double dates with you and Darcy.”

“Why?” Steve quirked a brow at him. “Wait, does that mean you’re -?”

“Means ‘no’ Steve. Just...” Bucky gritted his teeth, giving a strained sort of uncomfortable grimace as he watched the back of Maura’s golden head. “No.”

They finally reached the lobby and stepped out in to the brisk, cold, morning. Maura stopped just like she always did, taking a minute to take everything in. She had grown up in the city yet every time she stepped outside their building she acted like it was her first time seeing it all. With her hands deep in her coat pockets, her brow was creased in something akin to worry as she looked up and down the busy street.

"Better button up.” the perpetual nice guy Steve told her. "It's a cold one."

“So it is,” She said, smiling that sweet smile of hers, her eyes crinkling slightly in the corners as a lock of hair blew across her face. She was pale save the two bright crimson circles on her cheeks and Bucky knew how hard she was fighting to mask her emotions. “Thank you. I will.”

He wanted to punch Steve right in his star spangled face. Not southpaw style or anything, just hard enough to knock him down a peg. Goddamn punk, sticking his patriotic nose where it didn’t belong. Stirring up shit that didn’t need to be stirred up. Now Maura was upset and all he wanted to do was say something to make it better but he couldn’t because before he even had a chance to think of anything Steve was moving down the street in the other direction.

"Have a nice day," He mumbled when what he really meant was ‘I’m sorry’.

"You too," She replied politely, like they didn’t even know each other. Like her nail marks weren’t still fresh down his back.

He had really blown it. Why couldn’t he have just been open with Steve about Maura? Would it have really been that bad to introduce them; to say, _‘Hey Steve, this here is my best gal’_?

With one last fleeting look that hardly dared to meet her accusing eyes, Bucky took off in a jog to catch up to his friend.

"She seems nice," Steve commented casually as soon as Bucky fell in stride beside him.

“The hell was that about?” He demanded in a throaty growl.

“What?” Steve asked innocently.

“All that shit about what I do when you’re not around. You’re not my keeper, you know.”

“Never said I was,” Steve replied indifferently.

Like he said, the captain was unflappable. Bucky on the other hand was too pissed off at the moment to act cool.

“I don’t need to report my every move to you.”

“Then don’t.”

“I mean jeez, I had a double pastrami on rye for dinner the other night; you need me to tell you about that too?”

“You done?”

“No!” Bucky barked. “What was that crap with Maura, huh? _‘Morning ma’am, better button up, it’s a cold one’,_ ” He said in perfect imitation of his lifelong friend.

A grin spread across the first avengers face like he was the cat that caught the canary. “So that’s her name. Maura. It’s Irish, right?”

Bucky stopped dead in his tracks. Dark lashes blinked over cold blue eyes and his lips parted. In that second, he knew that he was caught. Not only had he fallen for the trap, but he had helped set the damned thing.

“What?” He asked. His bravado suddenly lost, his voice had dropped to barely a whisper.

The captain leveled him with a no-bullshit look. “Come on Buck, who do you think you’re fooling? I could see you climbing out her window from half a block away.”

Damn.

The former assassin started walking again, ice crunching under his determined boots.

"How long has it been going on?” Steve asked when Bucky failed to comment further.

“A while,” He finally answered.

“How long’s ‘a while’?” The consummate patriot pressed.

“Jesus, a while,” Bucky fumed. “Six months or so.”

“Six months,” The Captain echoed in near disbelief. That was almost as long as he and Darcy had been together. "Does she know about...?"

Bucky shot him with a glowering look. "What, about me being a newly reformed assassin prone to mind control currently working as an Avenger?"

"I was going to say about you being a jerk but sure, we can go with that."

The asset muttered under his breath something in Russian and then in English, "She knows."

Steve gave it a minute before asking his next question. “Is it serious?”

Raking cold metal fingers through his long hair, he shook his head. “I don’t know,” He confessed. “Pretty sure she wants it to be. Also pretty sure I’m going to screw it up if I haven’t already.” 

The Avengers Tower was in sight. Once there they would have missions and briefings; training exercises and reports to file. In the world of avenging! there was little room for the romantic woes of one seriously messed up super soldier and so Steve stopped in the middle of the sidewalk again, buying them a few more minutes of anonymity before they had to become heroes once more.

“Do you care about her?”

Bucky let out a depressed sigh. He could see the pity in his friends eyes. For a moment he wondered if it was the same look he used to give when that puny punk kid he used to know got his ass kicked in the ally behind the diner. Back when the world made more sense.

“I used to be good at handling, you know, dames. I knew what to do and what to say; how to say it. Take ‘em out dancing; maybe go to a show if that’s what they wanted. Hold the door, give her your arm, compliment her dress. It’s still there you know. It’s just...” Bucky’s lips pressed in to a hard line as he touched a finger to his temple like a gun to his head. “There’s that other garbage too.”

Steve frowned. He heard everything Bucky was saying but he had no answers for the guy. This wasn’t the 1940’s anymore and there was no dating manual called How To Get Along With Girls After You’ve Been Brainwashed By HYDRA.

“Do you care about her, Buck?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed with his hard swallow. “Yeah,” He managed to choke out. “I do.”

“Then tell her,” The captain said with a shrug before he started towards the Tower again.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “That’s it, that’s your sage advice? ‘Tell her’?”

“I don’t think they like to be called ‘dames’ anymore either,” Steve offered as though helpfully.

“Jesus, you’re about useless you know that?” The newest avenger accused, adjusting the strap of his duffle bag over his shoulder as he followed his best friend. “And since when do they not like being called dames?”

“I don’t know, like the 50’s? Google it.”


	2. Going For Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Aren’t you afraid?” He asked, his voice slightly accented and his fingers, both flesh and bionic, still snarled in her hair.
> 
> He remembered vividly the way her eyes had sparkled in the candlelight, her voice smoky with want. “Am I supposed to be?”

Darcy Lewis baked. That was her thing. Her coping mechanism. Some people liked to bite their nails, others talked to themselves, when Darcy Lewis was stressed she baked... while talking to herself... and also sometimes chewing her nails. It was all good though, because after a hard day of avenging! the team always returned to a kitchen full of delicious fresh baked treats.

"Steeeeeeve!" The buxom brunette let out a piercing squeal the instant the elevator doors opened.

Steve, who had been slumped against the back wall, pushed forward in order to be first off the elevator, shoving past his teammates without so much as an 'excuse me'. Darcy was coming at him in a full run and he caught her by the waist. Everyone let out a collective groan as the two attempted to devour each other.

Baking cookies for everyone was the least Darcy could do after months of their incessant PDA.

"Oh, snickerdoodles!" Barton commented with the glee of a 5 year old.

Darcy broke the seal of their kiss, her legs still wrapped tight about Captain America's waist. "No! Not for you! Those are Steve's. Eat the oatmeal raisin."

"I don't want oatmeal raisin," Barton actually looked ready to pout. "Why can't he share?"

"Because I made them especially for Stevie," Darcy said it with a sigh like some sort of lovesick school girl who had just decorated his locker with hearts and glitter. "They're his favorite."

Funny, Bucky thought. He could have sworn that chocolate chip had always been Steve Roger’s favorite cookie.

"Yeah. She made them for me," Steve taunted.

Bucky half expected him to stick his tongue out at Clint. Punk.

Clint glared. "Seriously?"

"Don't pout, you're not a child," Darcy scolded like the mother hen that she was.

"Yeah Hawkeye, don't pout," Bucky smirked as he helped himself to a lemon bar. He had to admit they were pretty good.

"I'm not pouting! And I'm not a child. Steve's a child. Won't share his goddamn cookies," the archer was still grumbling to himself as he sulked off with a handful of ginger snaps.

The soldier snorted in wry amusement before falling back in to sullen silence. He hadn't heard from Maura all day. She usually called around lunch and left a message saying she was thinking about him but today he hadn’t so much as gotten a text from her. Just silence. To be fair he hadn’t tried to get ahold of her either but he had sort of been busy avenging! all day though he had no excuse at the moment.

“So...”

Bucky arched a dark brow at the vixenish Natasha Romanov. She really was something else. All sex and cool confidence on the outside while on the inside she was just as messed up as he was. She was getting better though. Having Banner around helped. Somehow the doctors variety of messed up counteracted hers and together they were carving out something almost normal.

_Right. Normal._

“Rumor has it there’s a girl.”

_Rumor has it Steve has a big mouth._

“That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

_Right._

“So...” She was wearing that coy sideways smirk of hers and he wondered if she knew there was still a smudge of soot on her cheek from the mission. “When do we get to meet her?”

Like that was ever going to happen. He might have been out of practice when it came to women but even he knew it was usually best not to introduce your girlfriend to your ex, especially when said ex was a skilled assassin of the highest caliber. How could he even begin to explain someone like Natasha? Someone who knew him before; who had played a part in the life of the man that he wasn’t?

“You know it would take me less than a minute to find out everything there is to know about her.”

He had been picking at his lemon bar, watching it crumble between his fingers, but the Winter Soldier looked up at her now with his arctic eyes narrowed.

“Stay away from her,” He warned dangerously.

Natasha only smirked. “Well then it must be serious.”

Her eyes flicked to the couple who were completely absorbed in each other not ten feet away. Darcy was feeding Steve a cookie and Steve, the big idiot, was grinning like a fool. They made it look so damn easy.

“I’m going to take some of these cookies down to the lab,” Natasha announced lightly. “Knowing Bruce, he hasn’t stopped to eat today.”

“Go for it,” Darcy replied, giggling as Steve sucked the crumbs from her fingers.

Before she could go the Winter Soldier snatched the Black Widow by the wrist with cold metal fingers. A weaker woman would have cried out or at the very least whimpered. Natasha didn’t even wince. She just looked at him, her expression somewhere between bored and amused.

Reaching forward he brushed the grime from her cheek with his thumb, the gesture a familiar one and yet so foreign that it didn’t even feel like him doing it.

She rubbed her ruby lips together. Batting her lashes, this time her smile was soft and genuine.

“Don’t overthink it, Barnes. Even you are allowed to be happy,” She said this last part in her native tongue punctuated by a crimson kiss on his scruffy cheek.

Bucky watched from the corner of his eye as the femme fatale sashayed out of the commons with a pair of handguns strapped to her lethal thighs and a half dozen peanut butter cookies in hand for the Hulk. The elevator doors whispered closed and just like that, the elusive woman was gone.  
  
Maybe she was right. Maybe he was overthinking things.

He sighed. His phone sat like a lead weight, useless in the pocket of his flak vest. Technology in the 21st century was great; all that instant access right at his fingertips. But it wasn't doing anything for him now. What he needed wasn’t a high speed connection but a human one.

“Where are you going?” Steve asked when Bucky suddenly made for the door. “We haven’t debriefed.”

Without missing a beat Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes turned back to him. Walking backwards towards the elevator, his cheek twitched in a dry half smirk.

“Do it in the morning,” He answered in an old Brooklyn drawl. “I got somewhere I got to be.”

Steve appraised him with a knowing look. With his arm around Darcy’s waist, he gave her a squeeze.

“Good luck.”

He didn’t even stop to change out of his tactical gear. Unnecessarily armed and still smelling of gun smoke, he left Avengers Tower too intent on his target to care that he looked like a goddamn menace or that his metal arm was exposed to the world.

Prowling through the streets of Manhattan it seemed like everywhere he looked there were couples like Steve and Darcy, comfortable in their love. Couples who walked hand in hand and embraced on street corners. He’d never done that with Maura. He’d never wrapped his arm around her waist while they waited for the signal light to change. He’d never held her hand as they stopped to look in a shop window together. He’d never even taken her on a proper date.

He reached the apartment building in super soldier time. Rounding the corner to the side alley, his eyes instantly drew to the shadows in the fifth floor window. In one smooth movement he jumped on to the closed lid of a dumpster and shimmied himself up the fire escape. He could have gone inside and taken the stairs like a normal person but he wasn’t normal and taking this route seemed more fitting.

The first time he talked to the girl next door had been on that fire escape. He had lived in the apartment for a little over three months and hadn’t said so much as a word to any of his fellow tenants save the necessary ones he exchanged with landlord every month when he paid the rent. But there had been a heat wave that June and a mass power outage resulting in every window in the city being thrown open, his own included, and he found himself out on the narrow egress listening to the acoustic night sounds of the city unhindered by the buzz of electricity.

“Aren’t you afraid?” She had asked when she popped her head out her window to find him sitting there.

And he had thought it was the most absurd thing in the world. Not that he might be afraid but that this girl, who had more hair on her head than he ever thought possible, wasn’t.

She invited him in to help her eat the half melted ice cream from her freezer and he had marveled at how natural and unaffected she seemed. She talked for over an hour, paying it no mind when he didn’t respond to her questions and giving a small smile when he did. Slowly, she reminded him of the parts of his life that he had long forgotten; parts that he actually liked. So that when the voice in his head told him it might be nice to kiss her he went for it, boldly and without preamble.

“Oh,” She had murmured dreamily when he drew slowly away.

“Aren’t you afraid?” He asked, his voice slightly accented and his fingers, both flesh and bionic, still snarled in her hair.

He remembered vividly the way her eyes had sparkled in the candlelight, her voice smoky with want. “Am I supposed to be?”

She wasn’t afraid; not of him or his past or the Winter Soldier that still sometimes held residence inside his head. She wasn’t afraid of anything so how was it that he was in fact terrified?

Her window was open just like it had been that first night and every night since; not much but just enough that he could hear the tiny sounds of the television on inside her apartment. Crouching on the metal platform like a stalker with bad intentions, he watched her from the cover of darkness.

She was a vision in an oversized sweatshirt, her sleeves rolled up and the stretched out collar slipping just enough to expose the curve of her shoulder. Her hair pulled back, she was curled on the couch with her legs tucked up underneath her and a glass of pink moscato on the table beside her. For a few moments she was almost perfectly still but then he saw the heavy rise and fall of her shoulders and the heartbreaking way she worried her lower lip.

Suddenly, her attention turned to the window. She squinted. He knew she couldn’t actually see him through the reflection in the glass but still she knew he was there. She could feel him watching her. And she took a shuddering breath.

“How long have you been out there?” She asked when he slid the window open.

“A few minutes,” He answered unabashed as he stole inside her apartment. “You’ve been crying.”

She swiped at her reddened eyes and turned off the TV. “Yeah well, those dang Christmas rom-coms do it to me every time.”

Something was different, he noted. The kitchen table had been cleared. Her Singer sewing machine sat by itself; the costumes that she’d been working on since Halloween, gone. There was a box by the door labeled in her neat script, ‘Grade 2 Holiday Pageant’.

“You finished the costumes? That’s great, doll!” It came out sounding forced which he supposed it was and judging by the purse of her lips, she thought so too.

Maura stood in front of the coffee table, her arms hugged around her middle and her eyes glistening.

“What are you doing here, James? Isn’t there a girl in Human Resources you should be wooing or a damsel you should be saving?”

Damn. She really got him with that one. More than he expected even. Her sharp tone paired with the misery in her eyes was almost more than he could take.

“Look about that sweetheart, we need to talk,” He started. “That whole thing with Steve this morning -.”

She stopped him with an icy look. “Maybe you should let me go first.”

Bucky nodded, raking his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, okay doll. Go ahead.”

Maura’s brow crinkled as she searched for her words, choosing them carefully.

“There’s this guy I see almost every day at the coffee shop on my way to school. He’s nice enough. Says, ‘good morning’ to me whenever I see him. His name is Connor,” She swallowed hard as Bucky twitched his eyes. “On Monday he asked me out to dinner.”

A growl rolled in his throat. Here it was Wednesday and this was the first he was hearing about this Connor asshole. Suddenly he found himself wanting very much to punch something.

“I told him I couldn’t,” She pressed her palm to her chest, protecting her heart. “I told him I’m seeing someone.”

_Damn right you are._

“Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe we should have laid down some ground rules when we started all this but damn it, I don’t hide the fact that I’m seeing you, not from anyone,” Her voice went high and reedy. He’d never seen her like this before. He didn’t like it.

“I’ve tried to be understanding, I have. I get that you don’t want to introduce me to your friends and that’s fine but I’m not going to be some sordid secret either,” She bit her lip, her eyes dropping to the floor. “I think deserve more than that.”

“You do.”

Maura’s breath hitched and she looked up at him. She didn’t try to mask her surprise at his agreeing with her.

“I do?”

“You do,” He repeated. “You deserve a hell of a lot more than some jerk like me. I’m no good, dollface.”

“No, James, I -.”

She was backpedaling now, unsure of where to go or what to say. He could see it then, how much she actually cared. She was mad and she was hurt but still she wanted him. Maybe she even...

Her shoulders rose in a shrug and the slumped as though in defeat.

“Can I ask you something?” She was looking at her toes again, her face twisting into an expression that made her look old and tired.

“Anything,” He lied because the truth was there was a hell of a lot that she couldn’t ask him but he didn’t want to tell her that.

“Do you feel anything for me or am I just some kind of... easy lay?”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes went wide in utter shock. He tried to step towards her but still, something held him back.

“No, Maura. Jeez, no. You’re not -.” He stopped, his mouth open but the words escaping him. He closed his mouth, swallowing the feelings that were threatening to rise to the surface and overwhelm him.

He took a deep breath and tried again. “You’re not. It’s not like that, okay?”

“Then what is it like?” She wondered. “I’m only asking because I’m standing over here not knowing if I should kiss you or tell you to go to hell.”

He knew what he wanted her to do but what he wanted probably wasn’t the best thing for her. There was that voice in his head again telling him to break her heart. He was no good for her. No good at all.

“Maybe,” He started, his throat very dry. “Maybe both.”

She gasped when he grabbed her suddenly, yanking her close so that their bodies were pressed tight. She gaped up at him, her breath shaking and her lips yearning as he looked down at her with cold gunmetal eyes.

“You scare me,” He confessed darkly. “What I feel for you scares me. Before, when I was... Him... I wasn’t... _He_ wasn’t allowed to feel anything. Compassion. Remorse. An assassin is no good if they can feel these things. So they’d wipe His memory; put Him on ice before He ever could.”

“I-I didn’t know,” She stammered.

“Why would you?” He asked her plainly. “There’s a reason I don’t talk about it.”

He could smell the sweetness of the wine on her breath, making him drunk despite his super soldier metabolism. He took a deep lungful.

His voice was thick with want as he ran a metal thumb across her jaw. “I should have taken you dancing.”

“Dancing?” She murmured, leaning in to his touch.  
  
“Yeah,” He tilted her head back, focusing on her rosy lips. The muscles in his throat contracted with his swallow. “I should have... I don’t know, taken you out somewhere. I’ve never even taken you on a date before.”

“It’s okay, really,” She soothed.

“No it’s not,” Bucky insisted. “I’m sorry doll. I should have told Steve about us. Should have introduced you. For what it’s worth, he knows now. Saw me climbing out your window this morning.”

She grinned. “I guess a half naked man with a electromechanical arm is bound to stand out even in New York.”

“Guess so,” Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle a bit before biting his lip. “Say, you eat dinner yet?”

She shook her head, no.

“How about some Chinese, huh?” He was leaning closer now, his nose brushing against hers. “My treat.”

“Menu’s on the fridge,” Her voice was husky with desire and her lips twitched with longing.

“Nah,” His fingers snaked in to her thick curls. “I don’t feel like ordering in tonight. Let’s you and me get out of here, huh?”

Maura blinked in wonderment. “Wait. What? _Now_?”

“No time like the present,” He smirked. “What do you say, you gunna let me take out my best girl?”

She snorted in amusement. “You’re best girl?”

“Mhm,” He hummed before finally closing his lips over hers.

The kiss wasn’t forceful or demanding. Bucky took his time; waited for her to open for him which she did readily. When he swept the inside of her mouth with his tongue her body went slack against his. She issued a soft whimpering moan. He could taste her want and for the first time he felt he knew her heart as well as his own.

“My best girl,” He whispered against her lips.

Maura gave a dreamy sigh. When she opened her eyes her pupils were dilated with lust and she blinked unevenly at him.

“If we’re going to go out, you might want to change first.”

The former assassin looked down at his attire. Tandem handguns holstered to his right thigh, one to his left, a pair of custom-made fixed blade knives sheathed horizontally on the back of his belt and another strapped to his calf, not to mention all the extra clips in his various pockets. Had he really walked through Manhattan like that? The one saving grace was that he didn’t have his favored Skorpion strapped to his back. At this point even he would have considered the sub-machine gun to be overkill.

“Give me five minutes,” He promised with another quick kiss before heading towards the opened window.

“Maybe a shower too!” She called after him, smiling as she touched her fingers to her tingling lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, enough with the angst. Next, some good old fashion holiday fun!!!


	3. Bacon and Eggs With A Side Of Bucky’s Murder Strut and Steve’s Ugly Sweater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’s all this?” She asked when she found the avenger standing in her tiny kitchen with his long dark hair tied back in a knot and wearing fresh clothes.
> 
> “It’s called breakfast,” He answered with an almost caddish grin.
> 
> Coming up behind him at the stove, she peeked over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t I be the one cooking you breakfast?”
> 
> He gave her a quick kiss. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t believe in gender stereotypes?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m just having too much fun with this!

He ended up staying the night. He knew it was dangerous. His mind was a unswept minefield full of tripwires and hair-triggers, but he just couldn’t bring himself to deny her when she asked him to stay. He couldn’t leave her. Not when her eyes were still heavy with lust and her skin flushed pink. Not after the evening they’d shared.

They had dinner at Uncle Wong’s Chinese Palace, where the food was great but only locals seemed to know it. Maura was sure they ordered too much food.

“There’s no way we’re going to be able to eat all this,” She said, her eyes wide at the heaping plates of chow mein and Szechuan chicken before them.

Bucky only smirked. “Now that sounds like a challenge.”

He made it through three plates before he even showed signs of slowing down. Thanks to his enhanced metabolism there was never any chance of leftovers. 

And the way Maura had tried to stifle her laugh when the waiter came around and asked where all the food has gone. He even made a show of checking under their table because there was just no way two people could have eaten that much.

“Big boy!” The little old man in his crumpled white shirt and apron said. Bucky was pushed back from the table, his arms stretched over the back of the booth as the man patted a very solid bicep. “Big boy!”

“Yeah, he’s a big boy alright,” Maura had teased, her eyes shining with mirth.

Bucky practically growled. “You’d know best doll.”

Afterwards they walked the iconic Park Avenue where the Sargent’s protective nature seemed to kick into hyper drive. He made sure she walked on the inside of the sidewalk, his arm securely around her waist while he shot eye daggers at anyone he perceived to be too close. If his surly demeanor bothered Maura she made no comment. She was too busy awing over the same lights that she had seen every Christmas of her life. When she stopped to marvel over a window display he tipped her chin up for a kiss and with her eyes dancing in the golden glow of twinkling lights, he experienced an awe of his own.

“You’re nose is cold,” He commented.

She leaned up on the tips of her toes for another kiss. “My everything is cold.”

So they ducked in to a coffee shop where Maura ordered hot chocolate, insisting she’d be up all night if she drank anything stronger. Bucky ordered the same and relished in her laugh when he got whipped cream on his upper lip.

It was all so perfect, he could hardly understand why he had put it off for so long. Maybe it wouldn’t be as hard as he thought. Perhaps being normal would be easy.

They made love that night like they never had before. Like all his unspoken words could said in a kiss. Like all his insecurities could be washed away with a gentle touch. Like all the demons inside of him could be kept at bay by the way she said his name. So afterwards when she asked him to stay he couldn’t bring himself to say no. 

He said he’d stay; he never said he’d sleep.

With the discipline of a highly trained operative, James Buchanan Barnes lay awake. It really wasn’t that hard. He’d slept enough in cryo for a lifetime so the way he figured it, one all-nighter wasn’t going to hurt. With Maura wrapped safe and warm in his arms, he measured each breath, counted every gentle sigh, and smiled over her little snores. It was worth it for him to miss the sleep.

At two a.m. he kissed her between the shoulder blades, murmuring against her skin, “If this isn’t love I don’t want to know what it is.”

Shortly after 4:30 he ever so carefully removed his arm from beneath her neck. It was lucky he was so practiced in stealth maneuvers because serum or not, he wasn’t immune to the pins and needles brought on by a lack of circulation - at least not in that arm. Maura began to protest, half coherent mumbles that he quieted with a gentle hush and a soft kiss.

“I’m not leaving sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere,” He soothed until she settled back in to her pillow, then he slipped silently from her bedroom.

When Maura woke a few minutes before her 6 o’clock alarm it was to empty bed and the smell of bacon and coffee.

“What’s all this?” She asked when she found the avenger standing in her tiny kitchen with his long dark hair tied back in a knot and wearing fresh clothes.

“It’s called breakfast,” He answered with an almost caddish grin.

Coming up behind him at the stove, she peeked over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t I be the one cooking you breakfast?”

He gave her a quick kiss. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t believe in gender stereotypes?”

“Well I’ve heard you refer to women as ‘broads’ so no, not really.”

Bucky frowned. “Yeah I was told I can’t call you ‘dames’ anymore either.”

“Really? I kind of like ‘dames’.” Wrapping her arms around him from behind, she stretched up to kiss his cheek. “Mmm, smells delicious. Where’d you find bacon anyway?”

“I had to run down to the corner store. Did you know your fridge is damn near empty?”

Maura stifled her giggle in his back. “I’m sorry, I seem to have a hard time keeping food around here. I think my boyfriend might have some kind of tapeworm.”

Transferring bacon from the skillet to a plate, Bucky’s stomach shook with his snort of laughter. “Why don’t you say that again? I like the way it sounds.”

She kissed his shoulder blade through his shirt. “That I suspect you of having a parasite?”

The deep furrow took up between his brow in a moment of confusion. 

“What? No.” He shook his head. “The part about me being your boyfriend.”

Her tongue between her teeth, she grinned as she snatched a piece of bacon from the plate.

“You’re such a dork.”

He smirked thoughtfully as she took a bite. She was wearing his Henley from the day before, the hem barely reaching her mid-thigh and when she moved just right he could see the strawberry shaped birthmark on the inside of her right leg.

“Righ back at’cha, doll.”

Taking her by the waist he plopped her up on to the counter, appreciating the way she wiggled when her bare cheeks came in contact with the cool tile. She chewed the side of her mouth, smiling as he poured her a cup of coffee, careful to add just the right amount of creamer to turn it a shade darker than blond.

“Thank you,” She murmured over the lip of the steaming mug.

“Don’t mention it,” He said with a smile before turning his attention back to their breakfast.

The meal was simple, bacon and eggs that they ate at the counter. Maura swung her bare legs like a child, her heels occasionally kicking the lower cabinet as she sung her praise.

“Where’s a guy learn to fry eggs like that?” She asked as he helped himself to a third helping of bacon.

Sucking the grease from his thumb, he shrugged. He really couldn’t say where he learned. 

“Guess I picked it up out of necessity somewhere.”

“Well wherever you picked it up, it’s really good,” She told him with a gentle smile. “What other tricks do you have up your sleeve?”

He thought about it for a second. “Toast. You like toast? I make a mean toast.”

Maura gave a mock gasp of astonishment. “I love toast!”

He couldn’t help but smile. He snorted softly, his blue eyes gleaming with contentment. “Well good, cause that’s what we’re having tomorrow.”

“Hmm,” She grinned. “I like the sound of that.” 

“Of toast?”

“Of you making a habit of cooking me breakfast in the morning,” She mused, then seeing the time on the clock above the stove she slid from her perch.

“Shoot, I better get in the shower before I’m late,” She said before giving him a quick peck. “Thank you for breakfast.”

He grabbed her around the waist, holding her against him a moment longer. 

“Don’t mention it,” He said, his voice low.

Her cheeks flushed and she bit her lip. “Care to join me?” She asked, the look in her eyes anything but innocent.

Slowly and not wanting to, he shook his head. “Wouldn’t want you to be late to school.”

Her lips puckered in a pout that quickly fell away. She knew he was right, and kissing him again she broke free of his hold.

“I shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes. Will you still be here when I’m done?” She asked over her shoulder.

“Count on it, doll face,” He answered.

Twenty minutes later he was finishing cleaning the last of their breakfast dishes. Maura was still in the bathroom, taps turning on an off and drawers in need of WD-40 opening and closing, when he heard the familiar patriotic knock coming from next door.

“Hey punk,” Bucky greeted, a dish towel over his shoulder and a smug smirk on his face. “Nice sweater.”

Steve stood in front of Bucky’s door fist poised for another rap, wearing the most ridiculous Christmas sweater and looking more than a little confused. He actually double checked the apartment number like the perfect human specimen could possibly have it wrong.

“Wait. Does this mean...?” Steve started with an arched brow.

“Shhh, shut up,” Bucky shushed, checking down the hallway to the closed bathroom door. “Come here. She’s just finishing getting ready. Just be nice, okay? What’s with the sweater?”

“I’m always nice,” Steve argued as he made his way towards Maura’s open apartment door. “And what about my sweater?”

“Nothing. It’s fine,” Bucky answered quickly as he yanked him in to the small entry way.

“What the he-llo,” The tips of Steve’s ears turned pink as Maura emerged from the bathroom just in time to hear the hero almost curse.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, wide eyed over finding the original avenger in her apartment. “Hello.”

“Maura, sweetheart,” Bucky didn’t know why his heart was jackhammering in his chest. “This is Steve. Steve, this is Maura.”

“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” Steve greeted in that overly polite way of his that his friends sometimes found grating. His back straight, he held out his hand.

Maura smiled that big, happy grin of hers. “It’s nice to meet you too, Captain Rogers.”

“Please, call me Steve,” The icon insisted humbly.

“Yeah, call him Steve,” Bucky said with a wink, draping his arm over her shoulders. “Say Steve, you don’t mind if we walk her to school do you?”

“Oh no," Maura began to protest. "As much as I appreciate it, I’m heading in the opposite direction. I wouldn’t want to put either of you out.”

“You won’t be putting us out,” Bucky insisted, then to Steve. “Tell her she won’t be. It’s like six blocks and she’s got this box of costumes to take.”

“I can manage,” Maura laughed. “Really.” 

“Come on, let us walk you,” Bucky gave her an earnest squeeze.

Always eager to do the gentlemanly thing, Steve backed him up. “It really wouldn’t be a problem.”

Maura looked from superhero to the other.

“Well,” She started, “If you don’t mind.”

“We don’t,” They said in unison, then looked at each other.

“It’s fine, doll. Really.”

“I suppose I could use a hand. As long as it’s not a problem,” She added hastily. “I do have a couple of bags in the closet for the toy drive that need to go too.”

“We’re more than happy to help,” Steve announced chivalrously before reddening under Bucky’s icy glare.

Punk. It was his turn to be the hero.

The former winter soldier took the box of costumes while the all-American do-gooder managed the toys, leaving Maura with her messenger bag and the travel mug of coffee Bucky had prepared for while she was still in the shower. The super soldiers bookended her, making her feel small and also secure as they escorted her to school; Steve making polite conversation the whole way.

He asked the safe questions - the ones he already knew the answers to thanks to Nat’s minute research. She was 29 years old and a graduate from NYU-Steinhardt with a masters in education. The second youngest of four kids, she was the only daughter of an NYPD desk sergeant and a children’s librarian at the New York Public Library, Mid-Manhattan location. She was in her fourth year of teaching at Saint Anthony’s, the very school where she and her brothers had received their primary education and where her family attended church every Sunday. She broke her wrist falling from her bike when she was ten, didn’t get her driver’s license until she was nineteen, and had a current FICO credit score of 703 - not the Nat had done much digging or anything. 

The important thing to Steve was that Bucky was happy. That and that she wasn’t some undercover agent of HYDRA, which after talking to her he like 95% sure she wasn’t. And judging by the goofy way his assassin friend kept grinning at her, Bucky was happy. Probably the happiest he had seen him in since the spring of ‘42. The relief Steve felt was more than he could have expected.

“Well fellas, this is me,” Maura announced as they made it to the schoolyard gates. “Thank you so much. I really do appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it, doll.”

“Happy to do it.”

“Want us to take it inside for you?” Bucky asked when she hesitated just outside the gates.

“Uh no, that’s okay,” Maura said, darting a quick look over her shoulder to where a particularly stern looking older woman wearing a habit stood on the school steps. “I don’t think the Reverend Mother would approve. Thank you though.” 

Bucky narrowed his eyes over the top of her head. “What’s not to approve of?”

Maura sighed. “I don’t know. I think she’s still mad about the time when I was ten and said I didn’t wanted to become a nun because I wanted to marry Justin Timberlake.”

“Who the hell is Justin Timberlake?” Bucky growled.

“Frontman of NSYNC. They were huge in the mid to late nineties,” Steve answered for him then when they both gave him looks. “What? Darcy likes them.”

Maura returned her attention to Bucky. “Kind of missing the point. Look, I’m allowed to date but the school board as well as the church are both real big on practicing discretion. It’s like the military and their ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ policy.”

“Which was repealed under the Obama Administration,” Bucky stated dryly. 

She rolled her eyes. “Still not the point, baby. I told you last night that I don’t hide the fact that I’m seeing you from anyone, and I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I should parade you and your murder strut under Mother Superior’s nose either.”

Adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder, she reached for the box he carried, her gloved fingers lingering over his forearms. 

“Please don’t be upset,” She pleaded softly.

“I’m not,” He promised, though he was still shooting dangerous looks in the direction of the boss nun. “What about the toys? You can’t carry everything.”

She looked around them, grabbing the first pair of students she came across.

“Please take these to the toy bin in the front office.” She spoke with an authority he had yet to hear out of her. It was both strange and kind of sexy.

The two boys murmured their ‘yes ma’am’s’ and took a bag each from Steve before charging through the schoolyard on the task she had assigned them.

“Thank you again,” She said in the voice he was most accustom. “And Steve, it was so nice to finally meet you. Maybe we can all get together some time. James has told me some great things about Darcy.”

“That would be great,” Steve replied. “I’m sure Darcy would love that.”

The pleasantries out of the way, she turned her attention back to Bucky. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Count on it, doll,” He told her with a gentle smirk.

She shifted her weight, the cardboard box awkward in her arms. Her lips puckered for a moment like she’d kiss the air between them, then she turned on her heel and marched towards the school.

“My murder strut?” He asked as soon as she was clear of the playground.

“You do have a murderous sort of walk,” Steve chuckled as they started walking back in the direction they had came. 

“Punk,” Bucky snorted. “Seriously, what’s with the sweater?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s ugly.”

“Darcy says it’s cool.”

“You look like every Christmas stereotype on earth has thrown up in you.”

Steve pulled at the collar. “It itches too.”

Bucky paused for a second, thinking. “Wait, isn’t Darcy Jewish?”

Shaking his head, the true American hero gave a dejected sigh. “I don’t even know what’s happening anymore.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. Clapping an arm over his shoulders, he even gave a playful jab to his ribs, causing Steve to choke in surprise.

“You’re doll dizzy, pal,” He announced. “I think we both are. Come on, I got an idea of how to make that nun like me.”

Steve stared after his friend in confusion before taking chase down the street after him. 

“Uh Buck, what are you planning on doing to the nun? Maybe leave the nun alone!”


	4. Bucky Bear and Meat Loaf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're baaaaaack!!!
> 
> I am so excited to return to this story and these characters. My tree is up and I'm feeling in the Christmas spirit once again! 
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys!

Clint yawned loudly. “Someone tell me what we’re doing here again.”

“Barnes’ girlfriend is a nun and he’s trying to impress her,” Sam Wilson answered.

Closing one eye, the archer was peering through the small opening in his paper coffee cup. “I thought the church didn’t allowed that sort of thing.”

“Jesus H. Christ,” Bucky muttered. He was really starting to question involving the team in this mission. “For the last time, my girlfriend is not a nun!”

“His girlfriend works for a nun,” Steve offered. “Kind of.”

“I’m so confused,” Clint pitched his empty coffee cup perfectly into a trashcan seven yards away. “When did he even get a girlfriend? I always thought the Winter Soldier was a eunuch.”

“Wha -, seriously?” Bucky blinked at him in disbelief. “Why the hell would I be a eunuch?”

His hands shoved into his jean pockets, Clint shrugged. “I don’t know. Mother Russia?”

Sam offered a fist, which Clint proudly tapped. Meanwhile Bucky was mentally noting the various ways he could take them both out.

“I hate you.”

“Alright. I think we’re getting off track.” Bucky could all but hear the ‘ _again_ ’ that should have punctuated the end of that statement. Captain Steven Grant Rogers stood with his hands on his hips, looking like he was about to rally the troops, which in a way he kind of was. “Now I think our best approach is to divide and conquer. We’ll start in the middle and work our way out. Sam and Clint, you take the east side while Bucky and I work our way west.”

“Question.” Sam said, smirking behind the cover of dark sunglasses. “Do we want to synchronize our watches now or wait until we get inside?”

“I still want to know what a nun has to do with any of this,” Clint grumbled.

Bucky fumed. Seriously, if it wasn’t for the fact that he didn’t have the time for a sit down with Maria Hill he would have knocked their heads together.

Steve chose to ignore all three of them. “We have a little more than an hour. We’ll meet back here at ten sharp. Any questions?”

There weren’t. The mission was straight forward. Get in. Get out. Bucky could have just as easily employed the help of chimps. In hindsight, maybe he should have.

Clint issued a mock salute before riding through the stores automatic doors on a shopping cart with a shout of, “Video games, ho!” Sam following at just enough distance to be able to claim to not know him.

Steve sighed like a father let down by his sons’ life choices. “You have to admit there’s no one better for the job.”

Bucky grabbed a cart of their own from the corral. “I don’t have to admit anything.”

The men out of time walked side by side into the mega toy store where everything seemed designed with the sole purpose of assaulting their baser senses. Long gone were the tinker toys and paper dolls of yesteryear. Nowadays opulence and overstimulation was the name of the game and this place was chock full of it. 32 aisles of every single toy imaginable, each one guaranteed to eat through batteries and be forgotten by Easter.

Steve let out an low whistle but Bucky was a little harder to impress.

“Still doesn’t beat the old Loeser’s Christmas display.”

The captain’s eyes crinkled in fond memory. “Remember when the best we could hope for this time of year was a new pair of socks?”

Bucky snorted in agreement. “A hot meal.”

“You know what I woke up craving the other day?” Steve had his hands in the pockets of his slacks, his shoulders hunched forward like the shadow of the kid he was 85 years ago. “Milk gravy on white bread. Darcy looked at me like I was nuts.”

“Poor man’s meal.” The ghost of a smile was fleeting across the reformed assassin’s face. “Maura makes it. Says it was the first thing her grandma taught her to cook when she was a kid.”

The pair stopped in front of a display of Captain America action figures. Avengers toys were insanely popular and practically marketed themselves. The stores could barely keep the shelves stocked and Stark Industries donated over half the profits to various children’s charities. It was all Pepper Potts’ doing. She said it was good for their public image. Kid’s looked up to them. Wanted to be them. Strange, thought Bucky, seeing as half the time he didn’t even want to be himself.

“It’s crazy, right?”

That was one way to put it.

“Better grab them all. Everyone loves the Cap,” Bucky told him.

Steve nodded dumbly before dumping an armful of his miniaturized selves in the basket then continuing on to the foam Mjölnirs.

  
Bucky picked up a stuffed bear with its left arm dressed in silver vinyl and a black half face balaclava pulled over its muzzle. A test group had decided on the name Bucky Bear. Ms. Potts said it helped make him more approachable - aided in his public transition from the Winter Soldier back into Bucky Barnes. Somewhere in the back of his mind the Soldier cursed in Russian. Bucky just scowled.

“You should grab some,” Steve said as he dropped a couple of pairs of Hulk mitts in the cart. “Kids are nuts for Bucky Bear. Darcy even has one.”

Bucky made a face like the milk had gone sour. “Why?”

Steve shrugged. “She says he’s cute and cuddly.”

“Your girlfriend cuddles with the bear?”

“She says half the time you go around looking like you need a hug but since you’d just as soon gnaw your own arm off than accept human affection, she settles for Bucky Bear.”

“Disturbing. Does he sleep in the bed with you too?”

“What, the bear? No,” Steve added a half dozen Hawkeye archery sets to their haul. “I make him sit on the dresser and watch. Seriously, are you going to help or not? This was your idea.”

With a frown between his eyes, the former Winter Soldier started to grab toys from the shelves at random. Dolls dressed as Black Widow and Iron Man masks; Falcon goggles and capes like Thor’s. The Bucky Bears he left alone. All but one anyway. That one he sat in the front of the basket by itself with its little feet poking through the leg openings like a toddler looking up at its father.

By the time they reached the end of the aisle the cart was full.

“This is stupid,” Bucky complained.

Steve turned to him in wide eyed exasperation. “ _This was your idea!_ ”

“Yeah, but doesn’t Stark have a warehouse full of this crap somewhere? We could have saved time and money.”

Before Steve could respond there was the sound of a crash from the other side of the store followed by the loud apologies of a half deaf master marksmen who apparently couldn’t be trusted in the sporting goods department by himself.

Both of the super soldiers could hear Wilson’s response clear as day from ten aisles over.

“What the hell man? I turned my back for two minutes!”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Remind me again how you’ve managed a career as a spy.”

“I’d tell you but then I’d have to kill you. Now help me up.”

“Nah. I’m going to leave your stupid ass there. Let you think about what you’ve done.”

“Come on, it was an accident.”

“You decapitated the dude from Jurassic World!”

For ten whole seconds Steve gaze remained fixed, his jaw tight, his arms stiff at his sides. Only the most discerning would have caught the slight twitch of his eye and noted how hard he worked to control his breathing. One of these days the good captain was going to lose it. Bucky just hoped that he was lucky enough to have a front row seat when it happened.

“No one better for the job, huh?” Bucky smirked.

With a heavy sigh the good captain just shook his head. “Such a jerk.”

* * *

 

Every day Maura Delaney walked the literal halls of her youth. Very little had changed over the years at Saint Anthony Catholic School. The computer labs had gone through several upgrades and the gymnasium floor had been refurbished in 2005 but other than that everything remained exactly as she remembered from her days as a student.

Even the brown plastic trays that the cafeteria served lunch were the same. Maura waited patiently in line with her lunch tray just as she had twenty years ago, bummed over meat loaf whose recipe also hadn’t changed and listening to the excited conversations of students eager for winter intermission and the endless possibilities of presents on Christmas morning. Reaching the end of the line, for a moment she considered taking a second desert but deciding against it she headed towards the faculty table at the back of the lunch room where she barely had a chance to sit before Mother Superior laid a cool dry hand upon her shoulder.

“Join me up front for a moment please.”

29 years old and still Maura had a bite back a whine. Her inner child wanted to ask what she had done wrong as she dutifully followed the Reverend Mother down the center aisle towards the stage at the front of the multipurpose room where Father Patty was already waiting to say grace. His gentle smile reassured her now just as it had when she received her First Communion.

His blessing was short today, which was odd considering Father’s penchant to ramble. Maura stood beside him with her head bowed and hands clasped as he thanked the almighty for the meal they were about to receive and the generosity of friends during this season of giving. After the ‘amen’ he stepped aside for Reverend Mother to replace him at the microphone and gave a Maura a milky eyed wink.

“So exciting,” He whispered with an arthritic squeeze of her arm and Maura nodded in agreement despite having no idea what he was talking about.

“If I could have your attention for just another moment please.” Manners were important but everyone knew that though she asked nicely the Reverend Mother would tolerate nothing less than absolute obedience. A hush fell over the room once more. Only then did she continue.

“Father Patty reminded us in today’s prayer that this is the season of giving. Just as the three wise men bestowed gifts upon the Christ child on the day of his birth, we give unto others. It is through these acts of benevolence that we hope to spread the spirit of the Lord. Now as you all know every year we try very hard through our toy drive to insure that the poor children in the cities various foster programs have gifts to open on Christmas morning. What you do not know is that thanks to a very generous donation made on behalf of Ms. Delaney’s second grade class, we will now not only be able to insure that each of these children receive gifts but also the children being treated at Mount Sinai.”

Maura choked. As the students clapped and Father beamed, she was left trying to rack her brain. Her parents had donated as they did every year but it was hardly noteworthy and she hadn’t been teaching long enough to gain the favor of wealthy alumni, so who then would make such a contribution on behalf of her class?

The Reverend Mother raised a hand, bidding the room silent once more. “That is not all. Ms. Delaney’s friends who have made this all possible are here and they would like to say hello. If everyone could just remain seated please.”

There was the collective ‘Oh’ only ever possible in a room full of youth. Mouths fell open and eyes went wide in wonderment. For a single baffling moment Maura watched as the excitement danced across her students faces. Sweet little Taylor Baum looked like he was about to wet himself which she sincerely hoped he wouldn’t and it was then that it hit her.

Maura looked over her shoulder first then spun on her heel. In all his patriotic glory and his hand raised in a friendly salute, Captain America was leading his band of merry misfits onto the stage. They were dressed in full costume sans weapons (at least as far as anyone could tell) Black Widow, Falcon, Hawkeye, and none other than The Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes bringing up the rear.

“Hello Ms. Delaney. It’s nice to see you again,” The captain offered his hand, his blue eyes twinkling behind the mask of his cowl.

“Captain,” She couldn’t help but grin as she struggled to maintain her composure. “This certainly is an unexpected surprise.”

Steve tilted his head towards Bucky. The lower half of his face a mystery thanks to the cover of his mask, the soldier was staring at her with such laser focus that it made her knees weak. For a moment she forgot where she was. It was just her and the intensity of his blue-gray eyes and she blushed beneath his penetrating stare. In his left hand he held a stuffed animal by its scruff and without warning he thrust it towards her. It was made in his image and Maura couldn’t help but laugh.

“For me?” She asked.

He gave only a curt nod, reminding her that the soldier didn’t speak, Bucky did. So taking the bear, she took a half a step towards him and wrapped her arms around his impossibly square shoulders, leaning up to whisper softly in his ear, “Thank you, James.”

Though she missed the curve of his sensuous mouth, when she stepped back she could still see the smile in his eyes. Biting her lip, she nodded a polite hello to the rest of the assembled Avengers, nearly wilting under the Black Widows cool glare before returning her attention to Father Patty and Mother Superior.

Mother again at the microphone interrupted the clamor of students. “What do we say boys and girls, to the Avengers for their very generous donation?”

“Thank you!” The children spoke in unison.

Reverend Mother nodded her approval. “Very good. Now the Avengers have brought some treats for you all as well which they will hand out shortly but not until each and every one of you has eaten your lunch. I want clean plates. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes Reverend Mother,” The students answered in unison again, though this time with notably less enthusiasm.

No doubt it would be the first and last time that the students of Saint Anthony’s cleaned their plates on meat loaf day.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While working on this chapter I kept thinking of these end notes but now that I'm posting I can't really think of any.
> 
> Maura being a catholic school teacher is really less about the religion and more about the fact that in today's day and age they still recognize and celebrate Christmas in school. Also I hope no one minds the shift to her voice. We'll return to Bucky's in the next chapter.
> 
> Oh look, I found those end notes that I couldn't think of.


End file.
